


Of friendship between Aliens

by TerresDeBrume



Series: In which Asgard and Jotunheim are at (relative) peace [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen, Jotunheim won, Jotunn!Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So maybe Loki and Thor come from different worlds... literally.</p><p>But hey, neither of them comes from Midgard, and that ought to count for something, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of friendship between Aliens

He breaks down over a plastic bone of all things.

 

It’s one of those stupid toys midgardians keep for their dogs, an obnoxious blue thing that squeaks every time he presses it, and Loki can’t help but buy it in secret. Well. Almost secret, seeing as he uses Tony Stark’s credit card for all his shopping, and he has been told there are ways for him to track what Loki spends money on, but well. Pepper Potts is the only one who ever bothers to look into that man’s personal accounts anyway. Loki supposes it’s as much of a secret it will ever be.

To be entirely truthful, he still doesn’t know why he bought the thing. He ought to be over this, shouldn’t he? He ought to know better, and yet…and yet.

 

He supposes, maybe it’s being in midgard that makes him so.

He has never travelled away from Jotunheim this long before, and he misses his homeworld, although the mutters of ‘runt’ and ‘bastard’ can rot in the past for all he cares. It’s probably normal to miss his world, his home, what is left of his family…it’s certainly normal to miss Fenrir, the pup he never got to raise.

But, he thinks to himself, who cares? It’s not like anybody ever tried to befriend him here.

 

“Perhaps you should try to look more…human,” the son of Odin says somewhere on his right, and Loki blinks in surprise, thanking decades of training for his stillness.

“You mean to say I should try to look less like myself,” Loki says.

 

The Asgardian sighs.

Loki knows he is not like them. He is eight feet three in a world where the tallest people don’t even reach seven feet. He is blue in a place where pink and brown and bronze and golden are the only colors skin can take. He has horns in a country that uses them as a symbol for cheated-on men–which, by the way, is a concept he still fails to grasp, but who can he asks? He is different enough already, he can’t go around and ask about basic things. He must learn alone, or learn to pretend.

He wonders if the son of Odin has the same problem.

 

“I was merely trying to be helpful,” the blonde says, and Loki feels his lips curl ever so slightly.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know.”

 

They are outside now. Loki didn’t even realize where he was, too absorbed in the soft feeling of plastic under his fingers as he walked. Somehow though, his legs took him to Central Park, near a frozen pond where no sane duck would dwell at this time of the year, Loki knows.

Knows, but doesn’t feel, as the temperature–the coldest winter in the history of man-is still too warm for him. As for the son of–as for Thor.…Loki supposes he looks mildly uncomfortable, but barely so. At least, Loki isn’t  _entirely_  alone.

And what do you know, maybe he needs to be reassured of that, maybe he just wants someone who feels like he does from time to time, and so he says:

 

“I suppose I do not wish to look like them for fear of forgetting who I really am.”

“And who are you really?” Thor asks.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Loki says, watching the squishy toy in his hand. “I used to be a son, but my mother died, and my father was never very fond of me. I used to be a lover, but they both died, and no one has been able to measure up to them. I…used to be a father. But they left, too, for their own safety. Now I am no one.”

“Well then, son of Laufey, maybe you should try to find new ways to define yourself,” Thor says without looking at him. “Or perhaps, you could think more broadly.”

 

Loki looks at him then, perhaps for the first time ever.

He tried dressing as a midgardian, in the early days. Loki remembers thinking he looked almost like one of them. But then, people started forgetting who he was, and being surprised that Thor could do things that they couldn’t. They started expecting him to understand more and question less. To be more like them.

Thor went back to his sleeveless vests and cape.

 

In the end, Loki guesses, they may be more alike than they realized in the first place.

 

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“You are a Jotun,” Thor says, “Just as I am an Aesir. You are a warrior and a Warlock. And because you once saved my life, you are also a friend of mine, and a guest to the throne of Asgard, whenever it shall please you.”

 

Loki actually smiles at that.

Not because he truly thinks taking Thor up on his offer would be wise–there is, after all, a good deal of resentment still floating between their people, despite an official peace between the realm. But at least, there  _is_ an offer, and it makes him feel colder, better.

It is good.

 

“I must admit,” he says, “I never thought I would see the day when an  _Aesir_  would call me a friend.”

“Why,” Thor asks, “wouldn’t you say that I am your friend?”

“I do not know,” Loki smirks, “but I am quite certain you are not my worst acquaintance by far.”

 

Thor laughs.

 

“I think,” he says when he is finished, “you remind me of a ‘movie’ Stark once showed me. One of the characters is quite like you.” He smiles: “Perhaps you would agree to watch it with me, whenever you have the time? It is quite a long story, and most midgardians find it too tiresome to enjoy in one go.”

“Midgardians have strange ways,” Loki shrugs.

 

Thor smiles, then says something about going to get dinner for the other avengers and picking lots of frozen meals.

Loki is surprised to find himself smiling a long moment after Thor has left.

 

 

Later that evening, after the others have gone back to their respective quarters, he and Thor meet in what Stark tries to refer to as the ‘Rec Room’ but is becoming Loki’s bedroom, because it is the only place where his eight foot three–plus horns-are able to fit in relative comfort.

Thor is wrapped in three blankets, sitting on Loki’s midsection, while the latter is splayed all across the sofa. The pose is slightly undignified, but it is a lot more comfortable than sitting on a couch that is too low for him, and the device Stark installed to cool the air down prevents Loki from feeling too warm–hence, Thor’s blankets.

 

They watch in companionable silence as four little men with hairy feet follow an old Wizard’s instructions and set on a quest that is obviously too big and important for them. For the whole duration of the ‘movie’, neither Loki nor Thor say a single word, soaking up the story as much as they can. Then, after everything is done, Loki turns to Thor and says:

 

“Please, tell me I did not remind you of Gimli.”

“Why?” Thor says, “He does have your naturally sunny persona.”

“You are a horrible person, Odinson. A horrible person.”

 

Nothing more is said that night as they both go to their respective beds–well, Thor does. Loki just turns on his side-but in the morning, while Loki, Natasha Romanov and Steve Rogers are breaking their fast at the bar, Thor walks in and says:

 

“Besides, you  _are_ small for someone from your lands.”

 

Everybody looks at them, confused as to where this remark came from, but Loki knows.

He knows that Thor is merely jesting, and that he would not do it if he were not truly disposed to be friend with Loki. He knows that Thor, for all that he looks like a midgardian, is probably more similar to him than any of their fellow Avengers.

Case in point? The fact that, apparently, he is–like all the immortals Loki has met-capable of following a conversation that lasts more than a few hours…perhaps, if they play their cards well, they may even make it last for a few months–and that, for Loki, would be a first.

 

“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Steve Rogers says, and he looks to the black Widow, who shrugs.

“They’re just being Aliens,” she says.

“No,” Loki corrects with a smile at Thor, “I believe we are being friends.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback always appreciated! Either here, or [on Tumblr](http://fanfanwrites.tumblr.com/ask) :)


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